


Drabbles

by vianne78



Series: Nate [15]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Light-Hearted, M/M, Romance, Snippets, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vianne78/pseuds/vianne78
Summary: Short, mostly fluffy drabble one-shots.Some will be directly connected to things that have happened in the Nate-series, so... (possible) spoilers, sweetie. You have been warned.





	1. Once He Was A Little Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I was insane enough to take part in NaNoWriMo for the first time - sort of. Ended up producing ficlets like no tomorrow. I think some of them are even ones you might enjoy <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate's mother was the best.

***

 

Nate came in through the door very quietly, but not quite quietly enough to slip past his mother’s sharp eyes. Just before he managed to sneak into the bathroom, she called after him, making him flinch.

“Home already, sweetheart? I didn’t expect you to come back so early… Did you have fun?”

He stifled a sniffle and tried to act normal. “Yeah, t’was fun. But I’m tired.”

But there was no fooling her, he should have known better. 

“Okay. What happened?” He heard the amused note in her voice and his ears heated up. Why did she have to be so… all-seeing? He shuffled on his feet but didn’t turn to face her yet. His hand was still holding on to the bathroom door knob. 

“Nothing.” He had to try one more time. His honor demanded it.

“Nate.” 

She never raised her voice. She didn’t have to, the hint of steel appearing behind her words was usually enough to get anyone to confess - or behave, depending on the situation. 

Nate sighed, letting go of the door knob and reluctantly turning around. 

 

***

 

She had to school her face very carefully so she wouldn’t grin. Of course she’d noticed the grass stains on his hands and elbows, the dirt clinging to his shoes and butt. He’d fallen over for sure, but how badly, remained to be seen. He didn’t want her to see, so there was bound to be some damage.

That little boy, her precious, precious son, as stubborn as she was.

When he finally turned around to reveal knees skinned almost to the bone, she had to school her face again, but for a different reason. Under the blood she could make out the sand and small stones embedded into the skin on his shins. If she asked him to show his hands, his palms would probably look the same.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She felt like crying herself when she saw his lip tremble. It must have hurt like hell, but he didn’t want to show it. That was just the way he was built, her brave baby. Too brave, sometimes. She always took care to console him just the same anyway, because that was the way she was built. 

She walked over to him, took his shoulder and opened the bathroom door. “Come on. Let’s clean this mess up, before your skin swallows those rocks forever.”

Nate sniffled just a little, blinking up at her with his huge blue eyes. Like a little owl. She tried hard not to melt. “It… it can do that? It can’t do that.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Oh but it can. I’ve shown you the grains of sand in my knee, haven’t I? The little black dots just under the surface?”

Nate’s eyes widened even more. “Yeah. From the time you fell from your bike. I forgot.” He thought about it some more. “That’s pretty cool, mom.”

“I know.”

 

***

 

At her prompt, he sat on the toilet, watching her put some water in a bowl, open the medicine cupboard and pick up the dreaded antiseptics along with a whole pile of other stuff. Falling hadn’t really hurt, the pain usually came afterwards, but he knew the most painful part was only just beginning.

Her hands were soft and gentle as she washed the blood and dirt from all the wounds. Nate relaxed a little.

“So, how did this happen?”

“Uh. Well, someone had put a wire across a path I was riding on and… and I didn’t notice it at all before I hit it because it was under the Smithy’s hill and you can go _so fast_ and if your timing is right you don’t even need to pedal at all until you reach the old school house…”

His mother’s eyes flashed hearing that. Uh-oh. _Someone’s going to be in trouble_.

“There was a _wire_ across the Smithy’s path?”

He nodded, hanging his head.

“And you hit it when you rode down the hill.”

“Yeah, mommy. I broke the bike, too, I think. I couldn’t ride it back, the wheels are all wonky. I couldn’t fix it.”

She finished with the washing quietly and went on to take the bottle of antiseptics in her hand, soaking a clean swab with it. It was the vilest, most horrible thing in the whole world because it always stung so hard it forced tears out of his eyes and he was a big boy. He didn’t want to cry.

She started dabbing the wounds. And gosh darnit how it stung. “Don’t worry. We’ll get daddy to pick up the bike.”

“No.” He almost forgot the pain as he hurried to explain. “I brought the bike. It’s right there,” he gestured toward the front yard. She glanced up, and he could have sworn she looked surprised.

“But you just said you couldn’t ride it because it was broken.”

He wiped his nose on his sleeve, forgetting momentarily what his mom thought about that. “I dragged it. I tried to carry it but it was a bit too heavy.”

“You dragged your bike all the way from under the hill, Nate? While you had just fallen over, whilst you were hurt?” She turned his palm up to disinfect the scrapes on the heel of it. One was a bit deeper, probably sliced by a bigger stone, and her brow furrowed lightly. In concentration, he guessed.

Heat spread across his cheeks and ears, and he hung his head in shame. “Yes, mommy.”

It was quiet for a few moments. She finished with the antiseptic, and he dared to relax, to breathe a bit more freely. The salve she habitually used on any damaged skin felt heavenly, soothing the angry ache immediately. Finally she put a whole flock of big plasters on his knees and palms.

Then, instead of standing up, she remained where she was, kneeling in front of him. Her dress was really pretty, he noticed. As if she ever wore anything not-pretty. Today it was the color of the roses in the front yard, and had tiny white flowers embroidered here and there. Nate had always thought his mom was the prettiest of all the people in the world.

Her hands were folded on her lap, but they were fidgeting, she was playing with her ring, turning it around and around in her finger. She only did that when she was really upset. He dared to glance up from under his lashes, and what he saw made him gasp.

 

***

 

She had listened to her son’s story of the wire, and immediately realized with a cold sort of dread how badly things could have ended. How lucky her little boy was, how lucky he _always_ was, and how that luck was the only reason she still had her baby here with her. 

She also knew with absolute certainty it was the Dalton brats behind this prank. No one else would have come up with a stunt so thoughtless, so dangerous it was bordering malice. Those children had caused more trouble all over the neighborhood than the previous five generations put together. They’d been running wild for too long, and this time someone could have _died_. 

_Nate_ could have died. Her baby. Her only one.  
She would strangle the little shits herself. She would strangle them. 

Her hands were shaking, so she resorted to fiddling with her wedding band to cover it, as well as she could. But then Nate gasped in front of her, and as she looked up at his wide eyes, she realized hers were brimming with unshed tears.

 

***

 

“Mom,” Nate breathed, tears promptly rising into his own eyes, too. 

His mother _never_ cried, never ever. She was always calm and collected, sharp as a whip and _funny_ , so funny, in a dry, deadpan way that Nate and his daddy adored. She never lost her temper. She was someone plenty of people trusted and leaned on. Seeing her so beside herself now… it shook Nate all the way to his core. 

“Mommy… mom, what’s wrong?” 

But she just shook her head and looked at him, seemingly unable to speak. The tears were falling now, and her lashes fluttered a little, like crying had caught her by surprise, too. 

He was _really_ starting to worry now, but he didn’t know what to say that would make her feel better. His clothes were not too badly torn, they were mostly just dirty, and she didn’t mind dirt or mud. She always said that was precisely why they had machines to wash them. Maybe she was angry about the bike? If only he could have fixed it before coming home. 

He didn’t know what else to do, so he reached to rip out a handful of toilet paper. “I’m sorry, mom. I’m really sorry. It was an accident.” He pressed the wad of paper gently on her cheek in an attempt to dry her tears.

“What..?” She took the papers from his hand. “Why are you apologizing?”

He shifted, biting her lip miserably. “Well, because I broke the bike. And made you angry.”

She pressed the wad against her eyes for a moment, and a curious, muffled sound that Nate couldn’t interpret at all left her. When she looked back at Nate, he saw that the papers hadn’t helped at all, she was still leaking, a lot. But she was almost _smiling_ at the same time.

“Oh, baby. You foolish little cub. I don’t care about the bike.”

Nate couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You...you don’t? Even if I broke it so bad it can’t be fixed?”

She shook her head again, this time so sharply a curl of her dark hair stuck to her damp cheek. “No, I don’t care about the bike at all, sweetie. I only care about _you_. If anything happened to you…” She seemed to search for words, and for once in her life, she failed. “If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

And then she grasped Nate into her arms and hugged him so tight Nate could hardly breathe. But he didn’t mind. He hugged her back, and now that his face was hidden from her, buried into her shoulder, he could allow himself to shed a few tears of his own. After all, he was a little boy, and the fall had scared him more than he would ever willingly admit.

His mother smelled like flowers. Not like the biggest, really sweet-smelling ones, but like the delicate wildflowers on the meadow, light and fresh. Like spring. He buried his face into her shoulder. He was suddenly exhausted, and his knees throbbed a little, but somehow he was happy, too. 

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you, too, baby. I love you so, so much. Always.”

That he would remember. And he would always remember the first time he saw his mother cry.

 

***


	2. The Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate didn't have rings when he proposed. Danse comes up with a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just pure fluff omg. Your teeth will rot.  
> Happens right after Gone (part 10 of the series).

***

 

The smell of antiseptics was clear in the air, when Danse stepped into the clinic. He hated the smell, couldn’t stand it - but he’d endured it for days without a word of complaint. Because of Nate. His Nate.

The… Nemo “incident” had come to an end four days ago, when, in the last possible moment, they had managed to find Nate, broken and bleeding and buried alive, and no matter how old Danse would grow, he would never forget holding Nate right there on that dirt floor, believing it to be the last time. The blinding, overwhelming relief when the man had been found, followed by the blistering rage because of the state he’d been found in, and then… then the _nothing._

He still had no clue how he had made it back to Sanctuary, he only remembered the fog that had wrapped around and isolated him from the outside world. Faces had appeared and disappeared in front of him, their lips moving but he hadn’t really heard or understood a word. The hands touching his shoulders had meant nothing, how could they mean anything, how could anything ever - if he didn’t have Nate by his side.

They had tried to tell him - must have tried, he realized that afterwards - but their words hadn’t registered at all, so they had taken him by the hand and led him to Curie’s clinic, to show him Nate was there. Alive.

Again with the relief, and the fury. The only thing keeping him from going after Nemo and finishing him then and there had been the fact that Danse wouldn’t have left Nate’s bedside for anything, not even for the satisfaction of ripping the murderous little shit to pieces.

Nate had lost so much blood. Danse had never seen him so pale, so... _fragile_ , and this time the instinct to protect had been white-hot, ferocious, something he’d never experienced before. He’d had a hard time even letting anyone near the bed without lashing out, Curie included.

“Hey, babe.”

Danse was shaken out of his thoughts by the greeting, and he smiled back at the man on the bed. Nate had propped himself up with a mountain of pillows, and was putting down his comic book on top of the other Grognaks.

“Hey,” Danse said softly, bending to place a soft kiss on Nate’s waiting lips. “How are you holding up?”

Nate scooted to the side enough so Danse could fit himself next to him on the bed, and leaned back against Danse’s arm, closing his eyes. “High on painkillers and bored to death. Curie said I’m nowhere near to getting off the hook.” He sighed. “I swear if I have to spend another week here…”

“It’s only been four days.”

“...another _decade_ here I’m going to die.”

“Curie estimated two weeks in total. And I have to agree with her.”

Danse smiled at Nate’s exaggerated groan and kissed his temple. They leaned on each other, enjoying the closeness. Danse had been away most of the day. Tenpines had needed help and since a chunk of the gang was away, taking Nemo to Acadia, Danse had stepped in.

If Nate had been in any risk whatsoever, he wouldn’t have budged from the clinic, but Curie had assured him the danger was over and Nate was healing exceedingly well.

“I missed you.” Then Nate seemed to reprimand himself, and hurried to explain. “I realize you were only gone for a few lousy hours and I was just fine here, but… I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, not for a moment. Not even while I was getting rid of the… pest problem.”

Danse nuzzled Nate’s hair. “Oh. And your settlers there had a box of stuff they wanted me to deliver. They’d made all kinds of candy, and I think there’s even get well -cards from the kids.” He gestured toward the clinic’s entrance, where he’d left the box.

Nate perked up and smiled. “Candy? I have very wise people in my settlements. They know how much my gruff boyfriend love sweets.”

“Mm, probably why I love you so much, too. Sweetie.”

“Oh my god.” The sound Nate made was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and he slapped Danse’s thigh lightly. “That was terrible.”

“And yet, you laughed.”

“I was groaning. In pain. Look, I’m injured and all. You can’t prove otherwise - mmh.” Danse interrupted him with his mouth, and the kiss went on for a long, lingering moment.

And again, Danse was reminded how damn lucky he was. He still had this man, Nate was still right here, and that meant Danse still had his world, intact. Nate lifted and curved his body to better fit against him, to better deepen the kiss, and Danse gathered him closer, minding the still healing ribs.

They pulled apart, and there it was again, the warmest, most loving look in the bluest eyes Danse had ever seen. Danse all but melted under the gaze. He was tired after a few restless nights, and Nate was still in the process of healing, but… this was the moment, right now. It didn’t get more perfect than this.

The old world habit of wedding rings - or really, weddings altogether - were a bit of a rarity in the wastelands, but Danse had looked into it, when he had remembered Nate murmuring apologies for not doing the proposing properly and not even having a damn ring. Apparently the bands had often been made of gold, and even had jewels embedded in the more expensive ones.

_That_ had seemed over the top, using decorative stones in a world like this (your hands were dirty most of the time anyway), but other than that, he’d loved the sentiment. Something about being able to both give Nate at least this one familiar, traditional thing, and get to brand the dazzling man as his with it at the same time - oh but the idea had pleased Danse enormously.

Not that he was a jealous or possessive man, of course he wasn’t. Nope. Not at all. But he still wanted the whole world to know.

So Danse had improvised. From around the workbenches, he’d gathered a few smaller parts that already had the potential shape, and experimented a little. He had Nate’s old ring so he knew the approximate size - Nate’s fingers were longer and leaner than his. In the end he’d decided on a simple, flat design. The wide surface he had rigorously brushed for a more subtle look, and as an afterthought, buffed out the beveled edges to full shine.

The rings were, perhaps, a bit on the heavy side, but he wasn’t exactly a jeweler, and didn’t want to lose his in some skirmish without noticing. They looked very nice, if he said so himself - for a while anyway. Both rings would be covered in grease and dirt and gods knew what in no time. It also seemed only fitting, that these finished steel rings had been made out of power armor parts.

He’d been carrying them around for a day or two, waiting for the perfect moment to come - and since every moment with Nate was perfect, well…

“Nate… I have something else for you.” He fished for the bands and managed to get them out of his pocket. “I know you wish you’d done the whole… asking me to marry you thing… (he still couldn’t say it without smiling like an idiot) somehow more properly. With rings, at least, or - and, well, I - I made these.”

The bands were resting on his open palm. Nate was staring at them, like he couldn’t quite believe they were real.

Danse couldn’t keep quiet. He was nervous again and felt the need to explain further. “I read that the rings were mostly made of gold, like your old ring, but I thought that maybe our rings could be… of _this_ world, made out of something that reminds us how we - and where we found each other.”

Nate’s fingers rose to carefully brush the bands.

“They’re parts from a power armor. I - I hope you like them?”

“Danse. They’re stunning. I can’t believe you _made_ these, just because I…” Nate blinked rapidly a few times. “I love them.”

Danse tried not to show just how relieved he was, but the grin he couldn’t reel back. Not that he wanted to. “I’m glad. Because it would be terrible if you had to wear something you hated... for the rest of your life.”

Nate threw his head back and laughed. Danse wished he’d never stop. “Oh I just hope some armor doesn’t come apart mid-flight or something.”

“It is a possibility. I have no idea which armor these came from.”

Nate was still laughing when he kissed Danse. “So are you going to put it on my finger any time soon?”

Danse took Nate’s ring and looked at the man, sobering suddenly. “If I may..?”

Nate offered his hand, giving him a rather watery smile. His voice was a bit on the rough side, too. “Yeah. Please.”

And Danse, slowly but surely, slid the ring onto his waiting finger. Nate looked at it, smile widening and wobbly. Before Danse had time to, Nate snatched the other ring, a bit larger than his own, and held it up.

“If I may..?”

Danse couldn’t choke out an answer at all, he merely gave his hand for Nate to do the same. It fit perfectly. And it looked so right. They were both blinking hard to keep the tears from falling (and succeeded, too - for the most part) as Nate lifted Danse’s hand onto his lips, kissing the ring.

Nate was chuckling again, when he rose from where he’d been sitting to straddle Danse’s lap, carefully settling into this new position so he wouldn’t break or rip anything that was supposed to be mending. He wrapped his arms around Danse’s broad shoulders and leaned into him.

“I love you.”

Danse’s hands ran up Nate’s back, taking a gentle hold. “And I love you, Nate. So damn much. Who would have thought I’d find something so… you’re one of a kind.”

Nate’s lips pressed into his, once, twice - and stayed longer the third time. Nate cupped Danse’s face with both hands when they melted into the kiss, and usually that would have meant things would quickly escalate into something more heated, but they had to mind Nate’s healing body… the serious enough injuries to his skull, shoulder, ribs and thighs, not to mention the lesser ones pretty much everywhere.

So they ended up just sitting there, locked into the embrace, foreheads pressed together, until Curie came in to do the evening checkup, and they were forced to let go.

For a while anyway.

 

***


End file.
